No writing today…
This year is flying and sometimes I just want to grab it and say slow down. Other times, I grab it by the shirt tails and hold on for my life!
Thankfully, writing is not just sitting in draughty garrets with guttering candles and quills worn to stubs and ideas fluttering to the floor like so much rubbish.
Good things come one’s way…
Sometimes life is for escaping from.
Sometimes it’s for escaping to.
Today was the latter…
Very early this morning, the men decided to go fishing and being totally uninterested in the hunter-gatherer thing, I asked if they could drop me at Maria Island.
Cold Christmases? Snow? Robins sitting on a yuletide log whilst carollers sing with lighted lanterns?
It’s such a perfect picture and one that I grew up with courtesy of books, Christmas cards and fledgling TV programmes.
I remember at primary school when we made our own Christmas cards and I couldn’t WAIT to get hold of the glitter to sprinkle around because the glitter would be the winterlight dancing off the snowflakes that I was contriving to design.
But our reality here in Australia is really so very different…
Street libraries have become the libraries of the day as shortsighted governments close down libraries or shorten the operating hours.
The first one I ever heard of was when writer SJA Turney told me about the red phone box in the village of Kirklington, North Yorks and which was filled with books…
After that I noticed every country seemed to have their version.
And on the radio the other day, I heard about the Liverpool Street Library in Hobart and thought ‘Oh good, Hobart’s catching up!’
Imagine the surprise then, when driving down a coast road, I spotted this! The Retro Library!
Of course it required investigation and I found a great selection of books and magazines.
It has a window with a view over the beach too.
And a seat to sit and read in between gazing at the view.
I suspect the owners of the Retro bus stop sign have built the Retro library and I say more power to their foresight!
May it please many readers through this summer.
One of my favourite walks is not far from House – perhaps two or three kilometres. I get my husband to drop the dog and I off along the coast and I walk back along the shore, over white sand and rocks, past beach cottages locked up until the next long weekend or Christmas…